Words Words
by fembuck
Summary: Helena is sorry, and Myka believes her, but is that enough?  Myka/Helena, femslash


**Title: **Words, Words  
><strong>Author:<strong> Janine  
><strong>Fandom:<strong> Warehouse 13 **  
>Pairing:<strong> Myka/Helena, Pete  
><strong>Rating:<strong> PG  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own them.  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Helena is sorry, and Myka believes her, but is that enough? **  
>Note:<strong> The story takes place directly after the sneak peek for episode 3x05 ends.

xxx

"Pete," Myka whispered, placing her hand gently on his shoulder. "Please," she breathed out, "stop."

"She..." Pete began, jabbing his finger in Helena's direction.

"I know," Myka sighed, hanging her head down wearily, "but this isn't helping. Let's just focus on getting Joshua's Trumpet back. Please."

Myka's tone was beseeching and her eyes sad as she looked up at Pete. Her expression cut deep into his heart and anger flashed in his eyes as he turned his head in H.G.'s direction. Their eyes met for a moment and H.G. gasped softly as if she could feel his hatred like a physical force. Then a look of misery washed over her features and she lowered her eyes.

Her submission in the face of his ire didn't make it fade however, it enflamed it. She had destroyed lives. She had nearly destroyed the world. She had nearly destroyed Myka! He didn't care if she looked like a sad kitten. She deserved to be sad. She deserved to be miserable. She'd had love and she shit all over it. She didn't have the right to play the wounded victim now. She was the villain and he wasn't going to let any of them forget that.

"Pete," Myka said softly as he continued to glare murderously at Helena. "Pete."

He wanted to lay into H.G. again. He wanted her to know that he hadn't forgotten and he definitely hadn't forgiven, but Myka looked to be on the verge of tears and he couldn't do that to her. He couldn't tear into H.G. in front of Myka knowing that it hurt her. He wouldn't do it. He wasn't H.G., Myka's feelings mattered to him and he couldn't, he wouldn't, deliberately do something he knew would upset her.

Pete's shoulders slumped in resignation and he sighed before looking away from H.G.

"Fine," he said as his eyes found Myka's. "I'm done," he continued holding up his hands in the universal sign of peace. "I'll be in the car," he added a moment later, careful to keep the frustration he was feeling out of his voice as he spoke to Myka.

"Okay," Myka said, looking up at him gratefully for a moment before she lowered her eyes to the ground again. "We'll meet you there."

Pete nodded and the turned from her. His eyes landed on H.G.'s again, and she met them. Everything about her was in stark contrast to how he remembered her. Her lips which had once perpetually been curved into a grin were now pressed tightly together in a grim line. Her eyes which had once shone with mischievousness were now dull and sad. Her once proud shoulders were now slumped in defeat, and where she had always seemed to crackle with energy in the past there was now nothing but weariness. She looked small and broken and for a second as he stared at her, Pete felt sorry for her. But then he remembered finding Myka standing in H.G.'s room with tears streaming down her cheeks, and the way she'd sobbed and clung to him when he'd wrapped his arms around her. He remembered running out of the Warehouse after her only to see the plumes of dust kicked up by the wheels of her SUV as she sped away from the Warehouse and him because everything reminded her of H.G. He remembered the long, lonely months without his best friend and his features hardened.

Holding her eyes, he stalked towards H.G. and then he purposefully walked straight through her before heading for the car.

Helena and Myka remained still as Pete's boots crunched over the gravel, his steps becoming fainter and fainter as he moved further away. Finally, when Helena could barely hear his steps anymore, she released the breath that she had holding in and looked over at Myka.

"He cares for you a great deal," Helena said softly, her features contorting a little in pain when Myka averted her gaze from her.

"The feeling's mutual," Myka murmured as she stared at the rusted metal top of an old barn in the field that stretched out behind Helena.

"Myka," Helena began imploringly.

"Please don't," Myka interjected softly before Helena could say more, her eyes involuntarily tracking back over to Helena's and holding them for a moment before she felt the sting of tears forming in her eyes and looked away, blinking in an attempt to hold them back.

Helena breathed in sharply and her lips parted but she stopped herself from saying more even though she wanted to with every fibre of her being. She told herself to stay quiet, to give Myka that after all that she had taken away from her, but there were things she wanted to say, things she _had _to say and she wasn't sure when next she would have the opportunity to speak to Myka alone – or even if she would ever again have an opportunity to speak with Myka alone.

She was desperate, and as always that made her rash.

Before she was even fully conscious of what she was doing, Helena took a step towards Myka and then another until she was standing directly in front of the other woman. When she came to a stop in front of Myka, Myka's eyes went wide and the look in them was weary, but she didn't attempt to move away and Helena nearly sighed with relief at being allowed to be so close. She wanted to be closer though, she wanted to touch Myka, to hug her or hold her hand, and as she gazed at Myka her hand twitched at her side with longing.

Myka noticed the movement and her eyes dropped down to Helena's hand. The expression that crossed her face as she looked at it reflected the longing that Helena felt inside, and instinctively Helena reached out for her. Her hand passed straight through Myka and look of anguish passed over Myka's face before her eyes squeezed shut.

A single tear escaped from the corner of Myka's eye and a terrible weight pressed down upon Helena's heart making her gasp for breath.

"I'm so sorry, my darling," she whispered desperately, reaching out for Myka again though this time she stopped her hand a few millimetres away from Myka so that the other woman could feel the hum of energy field that maintained her holographic projection of her. "I know ... _words, words, merely words no matter from the heart_," Helena continued, "But I must say them. I'm sorry for what I did to you and for what I nearly did to the world. My mind was sick, Myka. I was mad with grief. To think back on what I did now ... I ... I cannot comprehend the thoughts that once ran through my mind. Those months after I was de-bronzed are a fog of confusion, pain, anguish and rage to me. The only thing I remember clearly is you. I know I did terrible things. I don't ask for your forgiveness, I know I don't deserve it. I accept my punishment, but you must know that I loved you. I hated the world, but loved you, and I am so very sorry to have caused you pain."

Myka sucked in a shaky breath and tilted her head back, closing her eyes as emotion overwhelmed her.

"I loved you too," Myka breathed out finally, allowing the tears she had been fighting to fall as she lowered her head and met Helena's eyes again. "I loved you in a way I didn't think I was capable of. You hurt me more than ..." Myka took in a shuddering breath and her eyes squeezed shut for a moment. "You broke something inside of me."

"I'm sorry," Helena whispered.

Every syllable that fell from her lips was laced with pain and regret.

"I know," Myka breathed out, offering Helena a weak, watery smile. "I believe you," she whispered, shaking her head slightly as if she couldn't believe it herself. "God help me," she added under her breath a second later, drawing a sad smile from Helena.

"I wish I could hold you," Helena sighed before she could think better of it.

"So do I," Myka said softly, her voice breaking the tiniest bit as she remembered what it was like to feel Helena's arms around her. "Would that you were here," she murmured a moment later before straightening her back to make herself appear strong even though she felt like finding a dark corner and curling into a fetal ball.

"Yes," Helena whispered longingly, "would that I were."

"We should join Pete," Myka said, filling the silence that followed Helena's words. "We have to find Joshua's Trumpet. We have a job to do."

"Of course," Helena said nodding before she took a step towards the car.

Pete was sitting on the hood of the car, staring off in the distance, though Helena was sure he was aware of everything they were doing. She liked being alone with Myka, even though things were strained between them and was in no hurry to get back to Pete. However, she had said what she wanted to say to Myka, and Myka had responded more positively than she ever could have hoped for, so she had no reason to languish. If she wanted to see Myka – even if she was no more than a fancy array of lights – then she had to be kept around, and if she was going to be kept around she had be useful which meant no dilly dallying around.

"Helena," Myka said, her voice halting Helena immediately.

"Yes, darling?"

"Are they treating you alright?" Myka asked, finally voicing the question she'd wanted to ask since Mrs. Frederic had first brought Helena's consciousness to her at Bering & Sons.

"Yes," Helena said, "better than I deserve probably," she added softly, her lips twitching up into a small, self-conscious smile. "It's good for me to be there for now. Dr. Calder is slowly untwisting my psyche. I may be a real girl again when she's done with me."

"I'm glad," Myka said taking a step forward so that she was beside Helena again.

"I may be allowed visitors soon," Helena said, staring forward, her eyes locked on the barn that Myka had used to distract herself earlier. "If I am ... if I earn it, would you come to see me?"

"Would they let me?" Myka asked.

"Yes," Helena replied looking down, "if you wanted to. But only if you wanted to," she added softly.

"And you would be real? I mean, you would be there ... physically?" Myka asked glancing over at Helena, drinking in the sight of her profile for a moment before she averted her eyes again.

"Yes," Helena breathed out. "In all of my pale, vitamin D deficient glory," she went on smiling faintly.

"I'll think about it," Myka said, delivering her words to the ground though she sneaked a peak at Helena after she spoke.

That wasn't what she wanted to say. She wanted to say 'yes'. She wanted to go and hold Helena's hands in hers. She wanted to smell her and touch her, and feel the physicality of her. But she didn't trust her instincts when it came to Helena any more. She didn't trust her gut to be right. She wouldn't refuse outright, because she suspected that there was a good chance she would end up going, if it was allowed. But she needed to think about it. She owed it to herself to think about it before making any commitments.

"Thank you," Helena responded and Myka nodded stiffly.

"We should go," Myka stated staring forward, her eyes on Pete where he was seated on the hood of the car.

"After you, darling," Helena said gesturing chivalrously with her hand for Myka to go first.

Myka smiled her thanks then began to walk towards the car and Helena falling silently in step beside her.

"I can't believe you built a rocket," Myka murmured as they walked, smiling despite herself as she glanced over at Helena.

Helena chuckled and smiled back, a real smile that reached her eyes without any sadness, and Myka felt her heart sing at the sight.

"Actually, I built two," Helena whispered confidentially. "But I lost the first one in a poker game."

"You didn't," Myka drawled, grinning over at her.

Helena shrugged. "There are a great many things that I excel at," Helena replied with a touch of the charming arrogance that had first attracted Myka to her. "And poker is actually one of them. However, it was my bad luck that Jules just happened to be even better."

"Jules? As in Jules Verne?" Myka asked incredulously.

"Mm," Helena hummed. "He had a great imagination but he wasn't much of an engineer. He completely ruined my rocket trying to convert it to delve beneath the surface of the Earth. Some boys never stop wanting to play in the dirt, I suppose."

Myka laughed softly at that and when her eyes met Helena's warm gaze she didn't look away.

"I've missed you," Myka found herself saying before she could think better of it, and instinctively Myka reached out for Helena's hand.

Helena's matrix flickered as Myka's hand passed through her and she smiled and closed her eyes, drinking in the sensation. She had felt nothing but hollow despair when Pete had walked through her earlier, but Myka's hand passing through her own warmed her heart. Pete had done it to taunt her with the fact that she wasn't really there, but Myka had done it because she wished she was there, because she wanted to take her hand, because she wanted to be close to her.

"I've missed you too, darling," Helena whispered when her matrix settled and she appeared to be solid again.

"Helena," Myka whispered.

"I'll be good," Helena promised before Myka could say more. "I swear it." She paused for a moment and drew in a deep breath. "On Christina's grave, I swear it."

Myka nodded. She wished she could have taken Helena's hand and squeezed it to show her that she understood how significant it was that she had sworn the truthfulness of her words on the memory of her daughter, but Helena remained intangible and wishing was all Myka could do.

"I ..." Myka began, but they were close to the car then and when they were within speaking range Pete called out interrupting her.

"Artie Farnsworth'd, we need to make it to the Big Easy in a big hurry, so hop in ladies," he said sliding off of the hood of the car. "Topless girls and shiny beaded necklaces await."

Once he was finished talking, Pete observed Myka and H.G. for a moment, taking in how closely they were standing to each other. He knew what _that_ meant. Everything had started with a Bonnie Raitt song last time too. They stood just a little too close. They stared just a little too long. Then all of a sudden he was stumbling upon H.G. with her hand in Myka's pants in row 13 and shortly after everything went to hell. There was even a pitchfork!

Pete sighed and dropped his head down in defeat as he walked towards the driver's door.

It was beginning ... again, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He didn't know if H.G. was on the up and up. He didn't know if she had changed or if he even believed that someone who had been hell-bent on destroying the world – and nearly succeeded at it – _could_ change. But, as he started up the car and watched Myka and H.G. approach through the windshield, he hoped that H.G. 'was' and that she 'had'. He hoped that this time around when H.G. said she loved Myka that she backed up her words with actions, because if she hurt Myka again he was going to have to track her down to the ends of the earth and kick her snooty British ass, and really ... he would have rather been reading comics.

The End


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